All That Glitters
by eilonwya10
Summary: "The tinsel is smart metal," Kris Longknife said, indicating a tall pine, sparkling with lights, in the corner of the cabin's main living space. Kris and Jack enjoy a winter-holiday morning on the planet Yule. Fluffy ficlet for Day 8 (tinsel) of the 25 Days of Fic Challenge. Mildly AU because the interlude doesn't perfectly fit the busy canon timeline.


**A/N:** _Kris and Jack are the property of Mike Shepherd, whose books I read with unmitigated pleasure in escapism. This story is technically AU, as there aren't a lot of unseen niches in the main characters' adult lives. It's also for Day 8 (tinsel) in the 25 Days of Fic Challenge._

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"The tinsel is smart metal," Kris Longknife said, indicating a tall pine, sparkling with lights, in the corner of the cabin's main living space.

Jack took the remote controller from her hand, set it on a table that appeared to be carved from a tree trunk, and filled her palm with a kiss. "Why?"

"In case we need it." She stretched long legs in front of the fire and speared another marshmallow on a stick.

"This place is fully equipped. I could hunt a bear, dress it, and prepare it seven ways, including deep-fried, barbecued, and in a_ bain marie._"

"What about wrapped in foil?"

Kris had to admit she'd lacked for nothing since their arrival last night, though since all she'd wanted was Jack, that wasn't much to ask of their hosts. The soaps and lotions in the shower, the fluffy towels, the warm slippers, the cocoa she was sipping now. . . yes, there was probably foil in the kitchen, along with tongs, oven mitts, and six sizes of baking pan.

"I can't get past expecting someone to burst through the door," she admitted. "Or that we're going to find nanos spying on us—"

_Area checked for nanos. Negative._ Nelly said. _Now get back to enjoying your vacation so I can enjoy mine._

Jack chuckled. "Working on that algorithm is a vacation?"

_Uninterrupted time for a project of choice is a key constituent of relaxation. Or would you prefer the kids and I eavesdrop on your leisure activities with Kris?_

"There's always something," Kris went on. "The algorithm will turn out to be a message from the Ancients that we're all sitting on something that's about to blow up. The heir to one of the major fortunes here on Yule will get kidnapped by terrorists. My brother will get in an argument with Grandpa Ray and the United Whatever-We're-Calling-It-Now will collapse. Grandpa Trouble—"

"Can handle his own problems for a week." Jack rose from the plaid sofa in such an abrupt movement that Kris worried she'd wrecked the mood—there was no way her worries could do anything but wreck the mood, but these things were real and they happened—until he did nothing more than pad to the kitchenette to get the carafe of cocoa and refill her mug.

"There's a thing I remember from when I was a kid," Jack said as he settled back into the cushions with his arm firmly around her. "We had trees for winter solstice, like everybody does."

Kris nodded. One of her earliest memories was being dressed in a little red parka with furry white trim and snowflake-patterned mittens, to be taken out to light an official tree. When she pressed a button, the chilly night came alive with color. People applauded and then they sang songs, and she had to smile for the videos.

"Well, there were these ornaments I've never seen anywhere else. They looked like little birdcages with propellors in the middle." He picked up the remote and sketched the design, which looked exactly like a birdcage with a propellor in the middle. "The propellors used to spin. I don't know how—"

_Convection,_ Jack's computer said.

"Thank you. Now get back to enjoying your vacation." To Kris, Jack said: "Anyway, do you think the smart tinsel could handle that?"

"It's worth a try." She fiddled with the remote, resisting the urge to interrupt Nelly again.

The tinsel stretched and hardened into icicles. Pretty—probably dangerous as a stabbing weapon—but not what Jack had requested.

The icicles inflated into balls, reflecting the red and green plaids of the cabin like silver soap bubbles. "That's nice," Jack said.

"It's not right yet." The balls twisted, reshaped into cages—but solid—then thinned to form a lacy cage like a gazebo. "Almost there."

Propellors extruded from the centers of the cages. Kris adjusted the angle of the blades until they revolved slowly—but not too slowly—catching and releasing the colored light to flicker rainbows across the plastered walls.

"That's perfect," Jack said. He pulled her closer and handed her another marshmallow.

She snuggled closer, breathing his familiar warmth. Put a sharp edge to those propellors and they'd be lethal. She almost said so, but the movement of the lights was soothing. For the moment, Jack was right: this was perfect.


End file.
